Easy
by ArkQueetely
Summary: A reflection on the Hanschen/Ernst relationship from Ernst's point of view.


It made him smile and he certainly could use smiling. That couldn't be that much of a bad thing, right? It made him smile all the time, when no one was looking, at nothing at all. It was just this feeling that welled up inside him sometimes, like when something _really_ wonderful happens to you except instead of a moment he had... _all the time_. This thing that he was scared to put words to because they hadn't quite defined what it was and... he was too scared to acknowledge it too much, to believe it was reality, because when it became reality and not a fairytale it was easier to see the end.

Because everything had an end. They always knew that, of course – not just Ernst but all of his friends, everyone in their town. They knew that everything dies. But now they felt it, too. It was something they all shared, for sure. Something that knocked the words from them for a while, sucked the sound out so they spoke in whispers.

Ernst rubbed his hands together -- he could barely see his breath, at least, but it was still uncomfortably chilly. There was a nice smell in the air, though -- the smell of autumn, this sort of indescribable thing that was hard to put words to and impossible to keep. It was just there, in the moment, and Ernst tried to appreciate it while he was out in it, because even if it would come again, surely, he would still miss it when it was gone.

He noticed a lot of things like that lately, really. Ernst had always been a little introspective, but maybe now it went even further to where he noticed that he was noticing things. He wasn't quite sure why -- his life was too many variables lately.

Too many losses. It was almost easy not to feel much about them. It was almost easy not to feel.

Hanschen made Ernst feel. The more the numbness of tragedy struck them all the more Ernst appreciated that – that being _alive_.

Hanschen, of course, did not feel. Or wanted people to think so. It was difficult to say whether Hanschen wanted Ernst because of or despite his feeling.

But the important thing, the thing that made Ernst smile a little even now, walking alone in the cold, was that Hanschen _wanted_ Ernst. And Ernst had felt nothing better in his life than that being _wanted_.

He rubbed his hands together again, looking up at the too-bright sky as if he could see where this cold was coming from. He licked his lips and he could feel the cold on them.

Still, he smiled a little. Kept on walking.

Hanschen looked up when he approached, and though Hanschen smiled, his was always a smirk. Ernst might be startled if it was ever anything else. Hanschen stood and pulled him into a kiss, no words, and though this was becoming normal with them the cold wasn't the only thing that brought color to Ernst's cheeks.

"Let's walk," Hanschen said, grasping Ernst's hand, and it was never a suggestion with Hanschen.

It really was a lovely day, if Ernst ignored the cold. There was that great autumn smell, the trees around them changing colors – nice to look at.

"I love days like these," Ernst said, smiling to himself, though it wasn't the trees that made him smile.

Hanschen nodded, his eyes wandering elsewhere, quickly peering behind them on the path to make sure that there was no one to see.

Hanschen and Ernst never really talked about... serious things. Hanschen talked about things and Ernst talked about things but Hanschen and Ernst never talked much about things. Mostly they each talked, and it was touching and kissing and wanting they shared.

They sat down on a bench, leaves crunching beneath them, and a wind blew but Ernst just moved closer to Hanschen because he had someone he could do that with now.

Maybe there was something really good there. To have someone who listened, even if they didn't feel the need to engage in what you were saying.

To have someone who listened _and_ didn't feel the need to engage in what you were saying.

There was less to be hurt by and easier to sink into smiles and not think about the end. When someone wanted you and talked to you but didn't need to talk _with_ you.

Better than someone who talked with you but didn't want you – Ernst had had too much of that. Too many smiles gone to waste and it was hard to let himself smile over that anymore.

Ernst could use smiling. That couldn't be that much of a bad thing, right?


End file.
